Survivor

by Mayonaka no Sasayaki

In her haste to be on time for her high school entrance exam, Kobayakawa Sena unknowingly sealed her fate when she ran past a certain demonic quarterback. Now with an early start to the American Football world, things are sure gonna be a lot crazier from here on out. May kami-sama help her. FEM!Sena -Eventual Sena/Hiruma pairing- and rated for Hiruma's foul language.

11. 10th DOWN: WARM UP

Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21 or it's characters.

Note: Please read and review because I would really like to know what you think! Especially constructive criticism because I won't be able to improve if no one is willing to point it out to me. Your time and thoughts would be most appreciated. Thank you and please enjoy!

Japanese School System:

To those that might be confuse about the last chapter regarding the ages of the characters; particularly Sena and Yōichi on why they are in different grades even though they were born in the same year.

In Japan, those who are born April 1st until March 31st of the next year will be in the same grade. In other words:br /

- Children who have their 6th birthday on or before April 1 enter the first grade of elementary school of that /

- School year starts in April and ends in March.

Example:

1988/4/1 - 1989/3/31 (Musashi, Kurita, Mamori Hiruma): 2nd Years (11th Grade) in High School

1989/4/1 - 1990/3/31 (Monta, Sena, Komusubi Sankyōdai): 1st Years (10th Grade) in High School

Hope it helps!

---

10th DOWN: WARM UP

---

Monta is waiting by a baggage claim, having gone back inside the airport not five minutes ago since he almost got into a taxi with his friends. After assuaging their concern and insisting that he will be fine going back to Deimon on his own, Monta had set off to claim his forgotten luggage at the carousal. Tapping his foot impatiently, he watches as the bags become fewer and further between. Most people already picked their bags up and gone by now, and the last ones are being snapped up quickly.

Stretching with a yawn from the leftover fatigue, Monta blinks bleary eyes on the carousal. He better gets his bag quick before he'll MAX fall asleep right at where he stands. After the whirlwind trip at Indiana, Monta longs to see his parents and tells them all about his MAX amazing trip. After he falls face first into the familiar comfort of his futon though.

"Finally!" Monta mutters to himself as he sees his medium sized backpack with the banana keychain attached to it. He grabs it with a cry. "Catch MAX!"

Grrr!

Blinking down at his stomach, Monta cradles his chin with a frown. 'Better get a snack or something before I go home.'

Shrugging his bag on, he sets off to find that Lawson convenience store he saw not too far from where he is. Rounding around a corner, he suddenly rams right into someone. "Mukyaa!"

"Aha-ha!"

Stumbling back, Monta looks up to see a strangely familiar boy around his age with long blond hair and a goatee who is...twirling in place for some reason.

"The heck are you doing?"

The other boy opens his jacket while striking a pose. "Looking fabulous even when I run into someone, of course!"

"…Right." Something tells him that the boy in front of him is a bit of an idiot. "Well, I'm sorry for running into you. You okay?"

"But of course!" The blond says with a flourish.

Monta folds his arms. "Well?"

"Hm?"

"Aren't you gonna apologise? You kinda ran into me too, you know?"

"Aha-ha! There's no need to worry about such a little thing, Mousier monkey!"

A vein pops on his forehead. "Mukyaa! I am not a monkey!" Charging forward, he points angrily at the sheepish looking blond. "But seriously! Where are your manners! The least you could do is apologise back!"

The blond raises his arms placatingly. "S-sorry."

Monta nods, satisfied. "Better." Humming thoughtfully, he cradles his chin as he scrutinises the other teen with a nagging sense of familiarity. Like this isn't the first time he met the other boy. Maybe from sch…ool…? "Ah!" Monta points accusingly at the bemused blond as a lightbulb goes off in his head. "You're from that time at Deimon's entrance exam!"

"Eh?"

He can't believe he didn't immediately recognise the jerk that insulted him in the hallways a few months back. "Don't play dumb! You gave me that English book with the monkey on it!" Even remembering it makes his blood MAX boil! How dare this bastard insulted him that way!

The other boy smack his fist into his palm as recognition dawns on his face. "Oh! You're from that time! But wait...that really wasn't yours?"

The bastard actually has the gall to look confused! The nerve! "Of course it wasn't!"

"Now, now. Let bygones be bygones!" The bastard rummages inside his bag by his foot, taking out a banana and handing it over to him. "Here, a peace offering!"

Snatching the banana, he gobbles it up before throwing the peel at the idiot's head. "Mukyaa! It pretty much defeats the purpose if you're just gonna insult me again!"

"Im-possiblee~!" The blond whimpers as he clutches his head.

Monta slumps with a sigh, feeling exhausted from the long day. "You know what? Nevermind. I'll let it go this time since you gave me food."

Again, the idiot twirls in place. "Why, thank you!" Before either of them can say anything else, a piercing ring startles them. The blond takes out out his phone from his jacket with that unnecessary flourish, flipping his hair as he answers. "My sister! Have you missed me already?"

"YOU IDIOT BROTHER!"

Flinching from the volume, Monta watches as the other boy frantically tries to explain to his enraged sister; saying something about wanting to play football in America. Wait…what?

"You're an amefuto player?"

The blond gives him a confused blink before striking a pose. "But of course! I'm heading to America to play in the pros!"

"LIKE HELL YOU ARE!" Seems like the blond accidentally put his phone on speaker.

"Suzuna…" The other boy tries to placate his sister but the girl is having none of it.

"You think someone who does't have any playing experience in amefuto can get into the pros just like that?! Don't be stupid and come home! No, better yet, tell me where you are so I can drag you home myself!"

The boy gasps, a dramatic hand on his forehead. "You don't understand, Suzuna!"

Suzuna scoffs, her voice sounding strain, like she's trying to hold back tears even as she continues to yell at her brother. "You're right, I don't understand! I don't understand how you can just up and leave like that without a word to us! You even took money from the house as if it was yours! Do you have any idea how worried our mother is because of you?!"

Monta's eyebrows go up at that. Now that just MAX won't do. A real man shouldn't trouble his family like that!

"I—,"

"I can keep an eye on him until you get here if you want?" Monta cuts in firmly, doing his best to channel Musashi as he levels a stern glare at the flustered boy.

"...Eh?"

"Really?" Suzuna pauses. "Wait, who is this?"

"Raimon Tarō. But you can call me Monta," he says proudly.

The blond raises his leg high before spinning in place like a ballerina. "Aha-ha! I am the ever fabulous Taki Natsuhiko!"

"My name is Taki Suzuna but don't call me by my surname or I'll get mad!" The girl chirps back.

"Sure, but why?"

Suzuna snorts. "I don't want to be associated with my idiot brother, that's why."

"Oh, my sister! So cruel to your beloved brother~!"

"Hmph!" Suzuna is quiet for a moment. "You'd do that? Keep an eye on my brother, I mean."

"Sure." Monta points a stern finger at the blond. "After all, I can't forgive a man who would worry his family so selfishly like this! And you even stole from them too!"

"S-stole? I was—"

"Nope! No excuses! You took your family's hard earn money without MAX permission! That's stealing, you idiot!"

"Well, he's that kind of brother, so," Suzuna sighs from the other line.

Monta harrumps, folding his arms. "Furthermore! Why do you need to go all the way to America to play amefuto? There's plenty of high school football clubs here in Japan!"

Taki slumps with a wail. "But I failed all the entrance exams!"

Monta blinks, confused. "Even Deimon?" Because it's pretty much impossible to fail Deimon's entrance exam since it's almost common knowledge that the school passes the candidates so they can get as many students as possible.

"Nope! He passed that. Miraculously," Suzuna pipes up.

There we go!

Taki gapes at his phone. "What?"

"That's one of the reasons why I've been trying to call you! You passed! You can enroll into Deimon and play football all you want!"

"But I don't know if there's an amefuto club there, though?"

"There is," Monta states.

"What?!"

Monta has to clear his hearing a bit when the Taki siblings echo each other's shock. Taki especially looks stunned and MAX hopeful that Monta feels a twinge of pity. "Deimon Devil Bats, that's the name of our American football team." He proudly points to himself. "I'm gonna be the wide receiver there once school starts. If you want, you're welcome to join the team; especially since we're looking for more MAX teammates."

"R-really?" Taki asks, clutching his phone tight.

Monta nods. "Yeah."

"That's great! They're willing to have you, Onii-chan!" Suzuna exclaims excitedly over the phone.

"Ha…" The blond strikes another ridiculous pose. "Aha-ha! What are you saying, Suzuna! It's like you're saying I'm desperate to get into any kind of team somewhere!"

"That'a exactly what I'm saying," Suzuna deadpans while Monta sweatdrops at the blond's idiocity.

As promised, after Monta tells the worried girl of their location, he waits with Taki for Suzuna; filling the other boy in about the team. Thankfully, Hiruma had arranged for them to land in Haneda instead of Narita so Monta doesn't have to wait long until he sees a cute dark haired girl skating towards them with breakneck speed before jumping onto the blond's back, feet first. Ouch.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid! What were you thinking baka-aniki!" The newly arrived Suzuna rants as she rollerblades on her brother's back. Double MAX ouch.

"S-suzuna! Your show of love is very painful, please stop~!"

Rubbing his nose with a smile, Monta nods to himself. "Looks like my job here is done!"

At his voice, Suzuna looks up at him and Monta is startled at how someone so cute can look so exhausted and on the verge of tears. Mukyaa! It looks like the blond is not just a little bit of an idiot but a MAX idiot if he made a girl, his sister no less, look like that. "Ya!" Jumping off the prone form of her brother, Suzuna grins at him. "Sorry about dragging you into this, Monta."

Monta shrugs. "It's alright. I was just in the right place and at the right time, that's all."

"Still…" Suzuna frowns in worry.

Monta waves it away with a grin, placing a companionable hand on the dark haired girl. "It's a good thing you found your brother in time, huh?"

Suzuna sniffs before she lunges forward, hugging him tight. Monta blinks, body frozen as he blushes. "Um?"

"Thank you, Monta."

Patting the girl awkwardly on the back, he clears his throat and tries to keep his head in check. No, no. His loyalty lies with Mamori! Though Suzuna is MAX cute indeed, his heart is already set on the pretty committee member of Deimon. Yes, of course. Coughing into his fist, he reluctantly pulls back, blushing slightly. "Seriously, it's no problem."

Suzuna snickers. "Ya~! Are you getting shy? So cute! Well, I can't blame you."

Monta scoffs as he looks away. "Who's shy? Not me."

Suzuna snickers again before taking her phone out. "I better tell my parents that I've got him. Seriously, we were this close in calling the police, y'know?"

"Sounds tough," Monta says sympathetically.

"Right?" Suzuna sighs before brightening up as the call connects. "Okaa-san? Yeah, I found him."

While Suzuna is busy with her phone call, Monta drags the fantasising Taki to the side, turning serious. "You better apologise properly when you get home, you hear?" Pointing at the still talking Suzuna, Monta makes sure his tone break no arguments. "There's nothing wrong in chasing your dreams but what's the point if you selfishly hurt your loved ones like this? I mean, no matter how dense you might be, surely you can't ignore how MAX tired your sister looks because of you!" Monta glares up at quiet blond, the silly grin gone from his face. "At least give the people who care about you some consideration! They deserve at least that much!"

Taki watches his sister, pained and chastised as realisation flash across his face before guilt sets in. Monta can relate. After all, he felt the same when he saw the state his best friends were in because they were frantically looking for him when he had his breakdown in Notre Dame. And that's not even adding Kurita's worried sobbing or Hiruma's ire that according to Sena, hid his concern. It didn't feel good at all knowing that he worried his team like that. The least he can do is make sure someone else don't make the same mistake.

"I will," Taki promises after a moment, looking serious for once since they met. Good.

Suzuna skates back to them, appearing curious. "Ya~! What are you two talking about over here? Looking so serious and grim like that."

Monta puffs out his chest. "A man's duty to his family!"

"The heck is that?"

Taki spins before hugging his sister tight. "Let's go home, my sister!"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, baka-aniki," Suzuna grumbles with no bite. It's obvious that for all her complaining, Suzuna loves her brother. Cute.

'No, no. It's Mamori-san for me!' Clearing his throat, Monta makes sure that he has his backpack strapped on before turning to the siblings with a wave. "Well, I better head home now. See ya in a few days!"

"Aha-ha! Indeed we will Monsieur Monta!"

"Bye-bye, Monta! And thanks again!"

"No problem." Thumbing his nose, he takes a few steps before pausing. "Hey, Taki."

"Yes~!"

"We might be a MAX crazy bunch but if you're looking for a place to belong," Monta grins a Devil Bat grin over his shoulder at the siblings. "Then the Devil Bats is the MAX best there is. That much I can promise!"

"Monta…" Suzuna says while Taki looks overwhelmed beside her even as he tries to hide it.

Nodding, he makes his way to the taxi stop, low key fist pumping at his MAX cool exit. 'Nailed it!'

"M-monta!"

Jerking out of his self-complimenting thoughts, Monta turns to see Komusubi waving at him from his perch on Kurita's shoulder while Cerberus lounges not too far behind. He bounds up to them, concerned. "What are you guys still doing here?"

Kurita smiles down at him. "It felt lonely to just separate like that so we thought it'd be better to wait for you."

"All this time?"

"Of course, fugo!"

Overwhelmed, he jump hugs Kurita, making sure one of his arms reel in Komusubi into the hug too. "You guys are the MAX best!"

His friends laugh as they return the hug before piling into a taxi-van. Kurita fishes his phone out of his pocket, exclaiming that he's gonna inform Hiruma that they're all heading home now, putting them on speaker. Komusubi does the same as he calls up Musashi to inform the older teen of their safe arrival back in Japan and some sort accountancy discussion while they're added. Seems like his other best friend went to some sort of open accountancy seminar when they were in Notre Dame and wants to add the knowledge he gained to help Musashi's company.

Hiruma answers within the third ring. "Well?"

"We're all heading home now."

"Good, so are we." There's a rustle before Sena's voice rings clear from the other line. "Is everyone okay?"

"We're fine, Sena-chan."

"That's good," Sena sighs in relief.

"Make sure you all get some rest before causing any trouble," Musashi advises from Komusubi's phone.

"Hai, hai~!" They all answer in unison, knowing how much it annoys the Bat's eldest team member.

"Just one 'hai' is enough, you brats," Musashi grumbles back as they all laugh. Well, cackle in Hiruma's case.

Monta settles comfortably in his seat, feeling warm and happy; he really does have the MAX best team ever. Period.

"Monta?" Sena pipes up. "Komu said that you went back to get your bag?"

"Yeah, I got it back. It's good that I had my MAX keychain on it!

"…The banana one?"

"Yup!" Then he remembers what else happened in retrieving his luggage. "Ah, that's right! I think I might've found us a new teammate!"

"What?!" His team chorus.

"Explain," Hiruma demands.

Grinning, he proceeds to tell everyone about the Taki siblings all the way home.

---

"Are you not too old for lullabies, my son?"

Ryōkan starts, head sheepishly peeking out of his hiding space behind a temple pillar, observing his father's broad back who is seated in front of the Buddha statue of the empty hall, calmly finishing the sutra Ryōkan was listening in.

"Sorry, Tou-chan. It's just really calming."

"Is something the matter, Ryōkan?" Kurita Kūkai inquires lightly, turning to him and patting the zabuton beside him in invitation.

Plopping down, Ryōkan sends a quick prayer before he turns pleading eyes towards his father. "Why do I still feel so weak even though I'm strong, Tou-chan?"

The head priest shifts, frowning contemplatively. "Why do you believe that, Ryōkan?"

Ryōkan is quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "My linemen coach at the base says that I lack killing intent."

Kūkai folds his arms, a touch of amusement in his voice. "That is true. You have a gentle soul like your mother, one you should be proud of."

"I am, Tou-chan," he reassures, laughing faintly before falling somber again. "It's just, I'm starting to realise that if I stay this way, I won't be able to protect my friends." Even the thought of his friends getting hurt because of him makes him want to throw up.

"Did someone got hurt?" His father asks in a concerned tone.

Ryōkan shakes his head. "No." Not yet, his fear whispers mockingly. "But they could if I don't have the strength to protect them." He wrings his hands, blinking back frustrated tears. "My friends depend on me to protect them but I have this wall that I have no idea how to overcome."

"And this has been weighing on your mind?"

"Yes…more than losing, the thought of not being strong enough to protect my team scares me." Ryōkan looks up at the Buddha statue. "One of my friends, Kobayakawa Sena-chan? She's the running back of the team. Her parents came by to meet us not too long ago, asking us to take care of their only daughter. We…I promise them that I would. And then there's—" Ryōkan sighs, clasping his hands tight.

"Hiruma-kun," his father finishes knowingly.

Ryōkan nods. "He's my best friend, my brother. I've seen on TV and some matches too of what happens when centers failed to protect their quarterbacks. It's not…it's not good. I don't want to be the kind of center that fails the quarterback."

Kūkai is quiet, and while he contemplates, Ryōkan listens to the creak of the old wooden floors and inhales the comforting scent of incense. Ah, how he misses this.

"Hiruma-kun knew what kind of sport he got himself into and so did you, Ryōkan."

Ryōkan swallows hard and tilts his face up towards the ceiling as his father sits patiently beside him.

"Yes. I…know. But it still scares me. That I...that I'll make the wrong choice. And my friends will be the ones to pay for it. They could get hurt."

His father's breathing is steady as always. No matter what troubles Ryōkan carries through the temple halls and presents at the man's feet, his breathing never changes. It has always been a great comfort to him growing up.

"It's alright to be scared. It is after all, what keeps us cautious," Kūkai reassures. "But you said that you feel weak despite your strength, is that correct?"

Ryōkan nods, unsure where his father is going with the question.

"Fear is a double edge sword. It can help us to be cautious from doing stupid mistakes but it can also petrify us, stopping us from doing amazing things. I told you before to not let fear control you, right? "

"Yes."

"Though it's hard, fear in this case, doesn't necessarily have to be a hindrance, Ryōkan. It can be difficult to get stronger without it." The head priest raises a hand to stave off Ryōkan's words, smiling slightly. "I don't mean physical might." His father first taps his chest then points to his head. "I meant these. Being strong in heart and mind are what drives us even when our bodies break down. Your kindness is not a weakness, Ryōkan; far from it. It's merely untempered and without structure."

Ryōkan frowns. "Then how do I get stronger in that?"

"Why don't we find an answer to that together? Because if it's helping in strengthening the heart and mind, I'd say I'm a bit overqualified; being the head priest and all," Kūkai jokes with a smile that looks like a grimace. His father has a very stern face, after all.

Ryōkan gasps. "Really, Tou-chan?"

His father harrumps. "Make sure you don't slack. Besides, I think it's about time you learn those lullabies you love so much anyway."

Ryōkan beams, hugging his father, who doesn't even flinch from his strength. "Thank you!" It's been so long since he studied under his father, what with football and his father wanting him to be free to do as he wish in whatever he chooses. Although, he admits that growing up, he really did want to take over the temple one day. Hmmm. Ryōkan wonders if it's possible to be both a football player and head priest of the Mōrensō, given the chance. Ryōkan questions this out loud to his father.

"I don't see why not," Kūkai says as he stands up. "Perhaps you will be the modern definition to the sōhei."

Ryōkan grins. "I'd like that." Bounding after his father, Ryōkan grabs onto the monk's robes in barely contained excitement. "When do we start, Tou-chan?"

His father turns sharply on his heel, giving him a stern glare. "Right now."

Ryōkan blinks. "Eh?"

"There's no time to waste," his father grabs him by the collar of his shirt and begins dragging him in the direction of the temple's meditation room.

"Tou-chan, wait! What about dinner?!"

"Dinner can wait. Lessons in being a warrior monk don't teach themselves," his father tells him unwaveringly, and Ryōkan waves his arms in distress at the various monks congregating around the halls.

"Noooooo!" Ryōkan shouts as he is dragged into the room and the doors snap shut behind him.

---

Sena exits the train at Shin-Ōsaka station, almost getting carried away by the press of people pouring out of the train to flood the passageway toward the ticketing area exit before long fingers wrap around her wrist. Nodding her thanks to the quarterback, Sena pulls her backpack straps tighter before falling into step beside Hiruma as they make their way to their destination; to Teikoku Gakuen.

It's the second of April and the cherry blossoms in Ōsaka is in full bloom, contrasting sharply with the giant collosium that houses the strongest football team in all of Japan.

Sena gapes up at the building. "So it's here…the strongest army in the country; the Teikoku Alexanders." She gulps, duly noting that her hair is getting a bit too long as she gives her ponytail a nervous tug. "This is nerve wracking."

"It's too late for that shit talk," Hiruma murmurs beside her. "They're here, fucking chibi."

Following Hiruma's gaze, she sees what appears to be the officials from the school and Yamato Takeru himself waving at them from the entrance, a warm welcoming smile on his face. A knot of worry unfurls in her stomach as Sena waves back, making her way to the group. When she gets close enough, she's suddenly engulfed in a bear hug.

Hiruma stills besides them before looking away.

When she's released, Sena looks up in shocked confusion at the grinning Yamato who extends his hand to her. "Pleasure to meet you. It's great that we can finally talk outside of emails, Kobayakawa Sena-chan."

They've been corresponding through emails ever since she found out about Yamato, making sure that the other teen is aware of the situation while ensuring that she has Yamato's consent with the whole challenge. Safe to say, Yamato was ecstatic when he found out about having a rival outside of Mr. Don's choosing to challenge him; to the point he agreed before Sena even had time to finish explaining. Sena is pleasantly surprised to find that she and Yamato get along quite well. Yamato has even made a habit of calling her his twin-rival. Honestly, Sena is just honoured at the fact that someone even considers her a rival at all, much less the ridiculously capable Yamato Takeru.

Smiling nervously, she takes the proffered hand with both of her own. "T-thank you. It's nice to meet you face to face as well, Yamato-kun. Oh!" Sena rummages into her bag, taking out a letter of challenge before handing it over with a bow to an excited Yamato, who takes it with a wide grin. "Ah...I know it's not a tradition of Notre Dame but I thought I should show you how serious I am in um, challenging you."

A large hand pats her shoulder, almost causing her to face plant onto the ground. "Thank you, Kobayakawa-chan!" Yamato smiles confidently at her. "C'mon, let me introduce you to everyone," her twin says, gesturing to the group of four behind him, surprised when she finds the familiar figure of William Yost among them.

"Yost-san!"

Yost tips his hat to her. "Howdy, Miss Kobayakawa."

Switching into English, she bows. "It's good to see you too, Yost-san. Though, I didn't expect it to be this soon."

"Well, I am the head coach in all of the affiliated schools in Notre Dame after all," Yost says with a laugh. "Good ta see ya too, Mr. Hiruma."

Hiruma acknowledges the greeting with his customary cackle.

"Glad that you're already acquainted." Yamato nods to a bubbly looking redhead beside him. "Allow me to introduce you to my Paraclete—"

"Tachibana Hikari!" The girl exclaims with a giggle, bowing to her and Hiruma with a wide grin. "Nice to meet you, Deimon-chan~!"

Both she and Hiruma trade glances at the nickname before Sena bows back to Tachibana. "Um, nice to meet you too, Tachibana-san."

Yamato gestures to an elegant looking woman wearing a tracksuit. "This is the head coach of the Teikoku Alexanders, Soga Airin."

"Good day to you both," Soga says with a polite smile.

While Hiruma hums with a smirk, Sena quickly bows, feeling flustered and who can blame her? This woman is the one who's leading the strongest team in the nation and she's here to personally greet them. "H-hello. Thank you for having us Soga-kantoku."

"We're happy to have you here."

A tall, stocky man with light hair and dark skin then steps forward, stern features looking somewhat familiar. The man nods to her and Hiruma. "Mutō Atsushi; Chairman of the American Football League. A pleasure to meet you both."

Hiruma nods before nudging Sena, snapping her out of her daze, causing her to gulp (no wonder the man looks familiar!) before scrambling into another bow. "N-nice to meet you, Mutō-sachō."

"And this," Yamato waves to a black man smiling warmly at them, "is Zachary Jones. He's the solicitor for the Declaration."

"Solicitor?" While she understands that Eyeshield 21 is a distinguish title, this is getting a little bit...much.

Seeing her confusion, Yamato smiles in understanding. "I know. But there's a reason for all of these conditions and traditions. C'mon, we'll explain everything in the conference room."

Making their way to the winding halls, the eight of them enter a small conference room, sitting down at the long table; herself and Hiruma on one side while Yamato and Tachibana sit across from them. Finally, the three officials surround the head of the table.

"As you well know, today we're here to initiate the challenge along with the rules that comes along with it," Soga begins, folding her hands neatly atop the desk, "and we will attempt to answer most of them right away. There is however, one thing I would like to address before we begin." Soga turns her gaze to Sena causing her to sit still and a bit frightened in her chair. "Your performance has been impressive and commendable, Kobayakawa-san." She pauses, giving Sena an appraising once over. "You're something special. Especially since you are the first ever female Japanese player to be the Challenger," Soga remarks, pride and respect in her voice before the coach unexpectedly grins jokingly at her. "If you'd be so kind to shut the boys up about amefuto being a males only sport, I'd be grateful."

Blushing, she bows her head in thanks. "With all due respect, I think you're doing a far better job than I am right now, Soga-kantoku; being the head coach for Teikoku and all."

Soga chuckles. "Well, it's good to have another girl in your generation making waves."

"Another girl?"

The smile Soga sends her is all teeth. "Koizumi Karin. She was recently scouted and shaping up to be a remarkable quarterback." The coach shifts her attention to Hiruma, who looks deceptively bored in his seat, twirling a gun as he blows a green bubble. "Best not underestimate her, Hiruma-kun."

"Hell if I care. A player is a player."

Soga nods approvingly. "Very true. My apologies for assuming otherwise, Hiruma-kun." The woman turns to her counterparts. "Gentlemen, if you'd please?"

Yost leans forward as he switches to Japanese, broken and heavy on his tongue. "We'll first commence with the confirmation of the participants and the data," he says, nodding at them with a smile. "Champion: Yamato Takeru-kun."

"Present," Yamato says confidently, presenting his pendrive.

"Challenger: Kobayakawa Sena-san."

"Present," she says softly as she does the same, her hand clammy on the pendrive.

"Insert the pendrives to the ports and pressed your thumbs to the scanner to confirm your identities."

"That's new," Tachibana pipes up, eyeing the machines curiously.

Jones grimaces slightly. "It's a condition Mr. Don set down to have the rules back to the way it should. This way we can verify the participants and keep an eye on their progress."

Tachibana frowns, expression souring at the mention of Donald Oberman. "He doesn't have the right to interfere in what's designed for runners." Her hands clench in fists, a vicious scowl on her pretty face. "Especially after what he did to Takeru."

"Hikari..." Yamato places a calming hand on the girl. "I'll get my revenge soon enough, don't you worry."

"It's understandable that you're angry at what Mr. Don did but in this, we think there is some merit to it," Jones reassures, his deep voice a comforting rumble. "While it's not uncommon for people to steal the title for themselves, this at least keep things in check. Especially the benefits."

"Benefits?" Hiruma inquires with an interested smirk.

"Eyeshield 21 is one of the symbols of Notre Dame, similar to a trademark. Usually when we find...posers so to say, we send our officials to see if they qualify. More often than not, they don't but if they do, we let them hold on to the name until the right moment where they'll face off the real Eyeshield, former title holders or pass all the trials."

"What usually happens to the uh...posers? Are there consequences?" Sena asks hesitantly.

"There will be a penalty," Jones confirms. "Once they've affiliated themselves to Notre Dame, bar inter-team scrimmages, they will be banned from matches for a year."

"A year?!" Sena squawks while Hiruma makes a surprised noise at the back of his throat.

"Yes," Jones says with a nod.

Sena gapes. "Even exhibition matches?"

"Correct. Of course, there were cases when the player can reduce that time to a minimum of four months if they're good enough."

"It's like a prohibition period, similar to when a player change schools in a middle of a tournament here in Japan and not being able to take part in matches for six months," Mutō adds, finally speaking up.

Sena leans back heavily against her chair, shocked. Jones chuckles at seeing the expression on her face. "Were you planning on stealing it, Miss Kobayakawa?"

Sena meets Hiruma's eyes immediately before sinking into her chair, feeling nervous and maybe a little spooked. "Uh..."

"Hell yeah."

Whipping her head at Hiruma, she sees her partner grinning challengingly at everyone. Resisting the urge to sigh, Sena gives an apologetic smile. "Initially. But I guess in this case, the cons outweigh the pros."

"Those cons can easily be overcome," Hiruma counters, nudging her knee with a smirk. "But knowing this earlier on is far more…interesting."

Sena chuckles nervously at that remark, wondering what Hiruma has in mind.

Yamato leans forward with an amused smile. "That would've been interesting though. What changed?"

"I didn't want to pretend," Sena states firmly after a brief contemplative silence. "Especially since I don't want there to be any doubt that I am Eyeshield 21."

It's only when everyone is staring wide eyed at her that Sena realises what she said."Hie!" Flailing, she stands up and bows repeatedly. "I'm so sorry! That was very impudent of me!"

To Sena's confusion, instead of being insulted, Yamato reaches over the table to pull her into a hug.

"Y-yamato-kun?"

Letting go of her, Yamato grins in excitement and approval. "I wouldn't expect anything less from my twin-rival."

"Eh?"

Hiruma lets out a low chuckle, pulling her back down to her seat. "Don't apologise about telling the truth, fucking chibi."

"Truth, huh? We'll see about that," Tachibana grins cheekily at them as the officials laugh.

Yost folds his arms, switching back to English. "I know the whole challenge thing is elaborate and maybe even over the top, what with traditions and penalties but there's a reason for that."

Sena furrows her brows trying to remember anything that can explain the conditions from the archives.

Yost grins at her confusion. "Believe it or not, it's something not even Mr. Don knows about since it's only for those directly involved."

Hiruma raises a brow. "And?"

"Eyeshield 21 is not just a reputable title; it's a draft program into the NFL."

"...What?"

Sena gapes, feeling her mouth has gone slack and no doubt, hanging open unattractively. Hiruma has stilled completely beside her, not even chewing his gum. Sena eventually wrestles back some control over her motor skills as she raises a hand up to cover her mouth. "I...what?"

Yost smiles kindly at her. "Eyeshield 21 was created a hundred years ago, give or take a few years. Since Notre Dame at the time is famous for their runplays, the title is bestowed upon runners. However, instead of it being just a legend like everyone expected, it became a legacy instead; lasting far longer than what everyone initially thought. A torch; passed on from one player to the next. Because of that, it collected a few privileges over the years that a simple title wouldn't have."

Legend. Legacy. Privileges that she can earn and...no...it can't just be her. Not when the recent memory of the boot camp, of the boys that had gone through it with her, especially the boy beside her is burned in her mind. Glancing at Hiruma, she sees the blond tapping a rapid rhythm on the table's surface, keen eyes bright as he plans and schemes. Sena carefully clear her throat. "Those privileges...it should also include the rest of the team that Eyeshield belongs to, right?"

Hiruma glances sharply at her, surprise shading his eyes, as it appears that the quarterback thinks that the program is only for her. No, absolutely not. Sena wouldn't even be in football if it weren't for the team; if it weren't for Hiruma.

"Yes and no," Jones says, smiling apologetically. "The program is only for the Cardinals or Dyad; the unit consisting of Eyeshield and Paraclete, along with eleven others. No more than that. Until you're an eligible player to enter into the NFL, the program is going to train and prepare you in your respective positions or professions and once you are eligible and maintained a calibre fitting for those within the League, you will immediately sign a contract and get drafted into a team of your choosing."

"And if they're footballers, they will be startin' players once they enter the NFL," Yost says candidly. "That's why there's a lot of hoopla for the title. It's not just the honour of the best and fastest runner of the era, it's a gosh darn legacy to bring forth amazin' people into the League."

Shellshocked, Sena watches as Tachibana leans forward with a conspiratorial smile. "Basically, it's like a gathering of an all-star team; just like the best of eleven awards here in Japan. In this case, Deimon-chan are the MVPs."

Sena gapes at her, and only realises after several seconds that her mouth is literally hanging open. Again. She glances at Yamato, who is reclined in his chair, his expression serene and confident. He looks regal, poised, and every bit like the Emperor and Champion that he no doubt is.

"Still interested in the Declaration?" Yamato asks, appearing like he's biting back a smile.

She shares a glance with Hiruma, who smirks and leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as he blows a bubble. Sena sees the edges of Hiruma's usual devil grin morphs a bit, hinting at how excited the other teen really is.

A breath and Sena closes her eyes for a moment, letting her mind process all of this.

A title with a history unlike any other. To not only have the recognition of being the fastest runner but to also go beyond that; a program to help pave way to the NFL. Not just for herself and Hiruma but for the team too if they want it. It's a way for her to continue playing the sport she has come to love for as long as she wants. It is, however, also an opportunity that is going to be difficult to earn and maintain but it's a chance of a lifetime all the same that can change their lives and help them with their future. She never really thought of football beyond the Christmas Bowl but having this presented to her, Sena can't ignore the fledgling yet persistent desire to want that for herself; to have it even beyond high school. Funny how Sena didn't even know what she wanted back in January but now...

Now she's starting to get a definite idea of what kind of future she wants.

She opens her eyes and meets Hiruma's own once more, seeing in them the same conclusion that she herself has just come to. They are Sena and Hiruma, running back and quarterback of the Deimon Devil Bats. So what that it'll be difficult to earn? That's what makes it worth while.

The both of them grin a Devil Bat grin as they give their answer.

"Yes, we are."

"Fuck yeah."

"Excellent," Jones says, folding his hands together in a steeple shape and pursing his lips in consideration. "Now, before we commence, we need to establish the consequences for both the Champion and Challenger. For the Champion; Mr. Yamato, since you have defended the title for over 21 months, your place along with your chosens within the NFL draft list is secured. However, if you lose, the title of the best and fastest runner will no longer be yours, along with being suspended from official matches for 21 days on a main football tournament. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Sena gulps as Jones then looks to her. "The Challenger; Miss Kobayakawa. You have until the next school year to finish the remaining two trials. If you don't do so by then, you will lose and the privileges that were previously mentioned will not be given. It will, however, give you a form of visibility to the scouts and possible recommendations. In addition, you too will be suspended from official matches for 21 days on a main football tournament." Jones folds his hands on top of the table. "If, by chance, you wish to challenge again, you will need to wait for 21 weeks until you are an eligible challenger once more. Do you understand?"

Licking her dry lips, Sena nods as she squeaks out. "Understood."

"Very good. Mr. Yamato, did you bring the paint?"

"Yessir," Yamato confirms, taking out a small canister and two paint brushes and stencils before placing it onto the table.

"Good. Now, players take out your helmets so you may paint your Declaration for all to see."

Doing as Jones asked, Sena takes out her helmet and places it onto the table and takes a paintbrush, dipping the tip into the gold paint; the same one that has real gold particles that were collected from the re-gilding on the Notre Dame Dome. Carefully, she places the stencil bearing the number 21 on the front of her helmet; in between the red bat wings. Taking a breath, she shakily paints the number before doing the same onto the back, near the bottom of the helmet.

Almost dropping the brush from her nerves, Sena looks up at Yamato who smiles encouragingly at her. She nods with a feeble smile before turning to Jones.

The man checks over their helmets before he nods, satisfied. "Now for the Creed of 21. Please stand you two and use your left hands to clasp that of your rival's."

When they do as they are told, Jones takes out a recorder and turns it on before placing his own hand on top of theirs. "This might be a bit hard since it's in Latin but please do your best. Ready?"

Sena stares at the hands in front of her then, turns to look at her partner. Hiruma returns her stare, grin savage as he nods. Nodding back, she exchange stares with Tachibana and the officials before finally, with Yamato who grins at her reassuringly.

"Ready."

A breath and— "Ready."

Nodding, Jones before clearing his throat and speaks, voice strong and clear in the quiet room.

"Behold! I wilt bring ruin upon thee, and wilt destroy thee utterly. So goeth the decree of twenty one!"

Doing her best to parse the words of its meaning, she blinks at such a bold decree, hearing Yamato repeat the words flawlessly first before she tries her best to do the same; the foreign words heavy on her tongue. Sena has to wonder why the decree is in Latin until she remembers that Notre Dame is a Catholic school. Makes sense.

"Now, please fasten your eyeshields to your helmets."

Sena fishes out her eyeshield from her bag under the table, admiring the emerald green color of the visor and brushing the reflective surface with trembling fingers. It took her awhile to decide what color she wanted for her eyeshield but in the end, she finds that green will contrast nicely with the Bats' uniform.

(Sena won't know until months later that there is an even more...interesting reason why she chose green of all colors).

Slotting their eyeshields in place, they all look to the officials.

Yost claps his hands together with a grin. "Alrighty then. Miss Kobayakawa, for you to be a fully eligible challenger, you need to pass the remaining two trials. The second trial is seven pre-match runs which will be handled by officials of our choosing. The third and final trial is to win seven consecutive matches within a main tournament, with a minimum of one touchdown done by you." The coach tips his hat to her. "Any questions?"

"No, sir."

"Very well," Mutō speaks up. "Then allow me to explain some things further regarding the Association's involvement in the challenge." The chairman takes out some papers from a file and handing it over to them all. "As Yost-kun explained to me, the American Football Association that the players belong to along with those from Notre Dame and the NFL will be responsible for looking over the two remaining trials. One official from each body will appraise the Challenger until both trials are complete. If either the Challenger or Champion are no longer in the official tournaments after the trials are completed then, both will meet in the Association for a private scrimmage after the end of the Christmas Bowl."

"Hell no."

"Hm?" Mutō looks at Hiruma as everyone does the same.

"The Devil Bats will be in the Christmas Bowl," her partner says, smirking. "We'll fucking kill each and every team in Kantō and meet you there. So, hell fucking no to such a boring scrimmage."

"Yup, yup!" Tachibana sings. "Deimon-chan is right! Doncha think so, Takeru?"

Yamato nods with a grin. "I couldn't agree more. Right, Kobayakawa-chan?"

Sena starts in her seat as all eyes turn to her. Gulping, she curls her hands into fists before she takes a steadying breath and nods decisively. "Yes. We'll be the champions of Kantō and," she pauses to give them all a somewhat shaky Devil Bat grin, "we will kill you in the Christmas Bowl."

Hiruma cackles beside her.

Mutō slams his hands on the table, fire in his eyes as he stands up, startling them all. "Now that's what I like to hear! An unshakable resolve!" The chairman then blinks at the amused stares some of them are sending him before he clears his throat as he sits down. "Continuing on…"

Sighing in relief, Sena leans forward with a smile before placing her arms comfortably on the table as she listens to the officials. From the corner of her eye, she sees Hiruma shifts then rests his chin on a palm as their shoulders brush.

Pressing close, she glances at Hiruma. "Ya-ha?"

Hiruma grins, eyes alight with unholy glee. "Ya-ha."

---

"Exhibition match?" Musashi inquiries his brothers before munching on a piece of beef from his birthday sukiyaki. To celebrate his birthday, they're all sitting at the low dining table at his house, quietly having dinner of sukiyaki.

"Yup! It's a way to attract new members!"

"Kekeke, it'll be damn shame to waste the opportunity to brag about the light-speed running back after all."

He pins a stern glare at the cackling Hiruma. "Does Sena knows about this?"

"Obviously," Hiruma scoffs with an eyeroll. "Ain't fun if the fucking chibi isn't apart of the planning."

Musashi is a little concerned at the glint of unholy glee in his friend's eyes. And maybe even a bit relieved as well. Ever since Kurita told him about Hiruma and Sena working together in a heist of all things, Musashi notices how more open his youngest brother has been.

"So? Who's the opponent?"

"Still thinking about it," Hiruma says with a shrug.

"But it might be Uraharajuku!"

"Oh? Why Uraharajuku?"

Hiruma smirks. "Because they have an interesting alumni. Also..."

Hotaru looks questioningly at the clearly scheming quarterback. "Also?"

"They're the perfect candidates to be my slaves and club resources."

Kurita and Hotaru sigh while Musashi pinches the bridge of his nose. "That's actually the main reason why you want them in the match isn't it?"

"Kekekeke!"

Taking a break before helping himself to seconds, Musashi sets his chopsticks down and stretches, ruffling his hair. Hotaru hands over a tissue to him, tapping the side of her mouth with a faint smile.

He takes it with a tired chuckle. "Thanks."

Hotaru pokes his bicep with a glare. "Don't burn yourself out, Gen. We'll make it."

"She's right, Musashi," Kurita says through his mouthful.

"Kurita-kun," Hotaru admonishes fondly.

Kurita grins sheepishly at her before he swallows. "What's the rush?"

Ah, that's right. He hasn't told his friends about his plan yet. Well, now is a good time as ever. On his other side, Hiruma eyes him and Hotaru suspiciously. No doubt he at least has an inkling to things.

"I think I can come back to the team by summer. Probably."

Musashi is tired. He's just turned seventeen and he's tired. It's about damn time he stops being so stubborn because he needs to figure things out with everyone and accept the help they're willing to give. Because honestly, he doesn't want to get left behind. He's worn out, worked to the bone, and just wants to be a teenager again.

Neither of his friends seem to know how to respond, and the next few moments are filled with silence.

"Really?" Kurita wobbles eventually, eyes already tearing up and shining with hope. "You're finally coming back?"

The thing is, it sounds plausible. The fledgling plan that he and Hotaru has been thinking up over spring break looks hopeful. Incomplete yes, but hopeful all the same.

"What is it that you have in mind?" Hiruma asks, eyes sharp and calculative.

That itself seals it.

After they clean up, Musashi leads them all down to Takekura Constructions that's located below his house, ransacking the office as he and the others try to brainstorm their way through. There's a grim sort of determination permeating the air as they work. Musashi feels guilty for dragging everyone into his problems especially with his brothers just recently coming home from Indiana and Ōsaka in Hiruma's case today but Musashi knows from experience that if he doesn't tell them now, it'll end up a mess later on and nothing will get done.

Slowly, they strengthen that tentative plan of his, slotting missing pieces together like bricks to a building. Ever since the team came by to help last time, Musashi held several meetings with his parents and the workers, surprisingly not getting into too many arguments with his old man either. For some reason, his father had an almost approving air to him when Musashi first brought up his plan.

Don't be an idiot, Gen. Running a company isn't supposed to be a one man army. You're finally starting to understand that.

Maybe he is.

"Think we'll make it?" Musashi asks hours later, staring at the messy office.

"Absolutely," Kurita states firmly, face set into a determined smile.

Snapping a cellphone closed, Hiruma gives him a bloodthirsty grin. "Fuck yeah. It'll be foolproof once we're done with it."

"Let me and the workers here handle all the heavy lifting alright? It's still our business on the line here," Musashi says sternly, pining them all with a glare.

Hotaru folds her arms, amused. "Very well. As long as you promise to let us help instead of shutting us out."

"I wasn't trying to—" Musashi starts, only to sputter when his girlfriend raises a delicate brow, a faint smile on her painted lips. Musashi sighs before throwing a sullen glare at his snickering best friends then raises his hands in surrender. "Fine. I promise."

As they clean up the office, he sees Hiruma plopping down onto a chair in front of the main computer. Feeling understandably concerned at what sort of scheme the blond has in mind, Musashi stands by Hiruma's shoulder, watching as the quarterback's hands fly across the keyboard keys before complicated programmings pop up on the screen.

"It's fucking annoying," Hiruma mutters, glaring pointedly at what looks to be the company's business statistics. Even looking at it is giving him a headache.

Musashi smirks. "I know. I won't deny the fact that with your influence, the company will have plenty of workers and customers. But—"

"It won't solve the fundamental problem. It'll just be a quick fix," Hiruma grumbles as he types.

"Glad you know that."

Hiruma scoffs. "It wasn't hard to figure out, Musashi."

He chuckles. "Well, you've never had any patience when it comes to problems that refused to be solved by force."

Hiruma takes out a deck of cards from his jacket, shuffling them with practiced ease as he waits for something to load on the screen. "It's been a learning experience. The more you rush to finish a house of cards, the faster it falls."

"I guessed it paid off then? Since you found yourself a partner."

It has always been something of a flaw for Hiruma, being impatient and unforgiving when others don't meet up to his standard of tenacity; measuring things or people by basing them on numbers and statistics. Meeting Kurita and himself have tempered it somewhat, teaching his brother to be wiser in that. However, meeting Sena in Musashi's opinion, is like a blessing in disguised as it pitted Hiruma with someone that has merit to the team but had given up with her situation and resigned to her role of the victim. While he and Kurita had observed that Hiruma was mainly driven by the desire to create a strong, victorious team in recruiting Sena, it doesn't go unnoticed on how Hiruma actually gave Sena some breathing room to get back on her feet and had even shown mercy eventually instead of leaving the girl and deeming her a lost cause. It's subtle but Hiruma has been far more patient in regards of people than he did in the past. Hopefully, it might help Hiruma one day in confronting his father.

Hiruma pauses then nods with a thoughtful countenance. "It's an unexpected development."

"Heh, the best things are."

They won't know how true that statement is until much, much later.

---

Never removing his eyes or his thoughts from the parcel in front of him, the same one that he got on his birthday, Yōichi pops his gum with a sharp snap in silent contemplation. He's never one to hesitate over crap and if he wants to tie loose ends and find his answers then this is a damn good start as any. Narrowing his eyes, he unwraps the parcel with deft fingers, peering inside with an eagerness he can't fathom. Nor likes to admit.

Blinking, he picks a hardcover book up and almost drops it when he catches sight of the title. "Fuck-shit-sonuvabitch."

The hell? He's literally holding the Arithmetica right now and fuck, it's the limited edition too. How the fucking nine hells did his father find this when Yōichi's been looking all over for it since his time in Maō? Goddammit.

Checking the box for further items of interest, Yōichi finds a playbook of the San Antonio Armadillos and a metal thermos, raising an amused brow at what's written on the side.

do

coffeeThermos dot Drink

workTask dot Execute

if coffeeThermos dot Empty

if coffeePot dot Empty

coffeePot dot Make

while workTask dot Done

"Bastard," Yōichi snickers, turning the thermos slightly only to burst out laughing at what he finds on the other side.

01101001 00100000

01110100 01110101 01110010 01101110 00100000

01100011 01101111 01100110 01100110 01100101 01100101 00100000

01101001 01101110 01110100 01101111 00100000

01100011 01101111 01100100 01100101

"I Turn Coffee Into Code…seriously? Oh, that's fucking original."

Shaking his head with a grin, Yōichi fishes out a note from the box, deciphering the simple birthday greeting with ease along with his father's wish for his continued well being….along with a list of health advices. Same old Dad. He hums, packing the gifts away before unwrapping the other three parcels in chronological order, finding a similar theme to the gifts; a rare book about mathematics or algorithms, a football playbook from a well-rounded team and finally, a simple yet practical item consisting of a pair of computer glasses, a wrist coach and finally, a tool kit. All things that he favours. Some days he forgets how well his father knows him.

Placing the gifts back into its boxes and back into the metal chest, Yōichi settles into his desk chair, turning it this way and that. After a moment, he fishes out his phone and ciphers a message to his father.

You:

I'm bored.

Not a minute too soon, he gets a reply.

Tou-san:

Do refrain from causing mass mayhem at this point of time. The weather would not agree to such a disturbance.

He snorts, kicking up his feet on the desk, fingers flying over the keys in rapid succession.

You:

I'm a fucking force of nature; literally chaos incarnate. I don't need to worry about the weather.

Tou-san:

Truly? There appears to be an alarming lack of proof for such a hefty claim.

You:

Proof? In terms of the infinite dimensional case; the R-infinity especially, I have more than enough proof to write a fucking theorem of my own.

Tou-san:

Perhaps. There is, however, a counter argument to that.

You:

And that is?

Raising a sardonic brow, he sets aside his phone to load up his laptop and double checks the preparations for the upcoming exhibition match with the Harajuku Borders. Yōichi returns his attention to his phone as it pings with Yūya's reply.

Tou-san:

Gravity. And a roof.

He gives a slow blink before launching into a slew of curses, thumping his head on the desk's surface and narrowly avoiding his laptop. That was one of his stupidest miscalculations. Ever. Though, in his defence, Yōichi was only nine at the time. Plus, it wasn't entirely his fault either since there were outside interference and he hadn't learn to adapt yet at that age.

You:

Fuck off.

But his father is a Hiruma and they have a tendency to be a right bastard even with their own family. No, scratch that, they're bastards especially to their own flesh and blood. So, when Yōichi sees his father's reply, he's tempted to find a way to break through the space-time continuum and wrangle his nine year old self for such an embarrassing miscalculation. Or better yet, shoot his old man at remembering it and bringing the incident up.

Tou-san:

Also, pigeons. So many pigeons, Yōichi. In fact, I believe you even went and found a new subspecies.

Yōichi shakes his head, chuckling helplessly at the memory the conversation conjures up. The Kitchen tends to have too many pigeons in his opinion anyway. As far as anyone's concern, he did everyone a favour by scaring those shitheads off from the vicinity. Spinning the chair, his ears twitch slightly as he hears Cerberus grumbles from his place by the foot of the bed before settling again. Hn, one more workload before calling it a night.

You:

How the hell do you even remember that?

Stretching, he checks the game plan for the upcoming match, cross-referencing and polishing the more incomplete parts and incorporating a few from the ones he received in Notre Dame's data banks. He is the Advocate after all, what better way to make use of his time and resource. Kekekekeke~!

Tou-san:

Do remember that you inherited your memory from me, Yōichi. It's hard to forget even without such a recall. Also, it was a stunning display of democracy and physics. You were very fortunate that it didn't beget any more than scrapes and bruises.

Yōichi saves his work and turns off his laptop. Standing up, he pauses when he spies the unopened envelope Kobayakawa gave him a few weeks back. Ah, that's right. There's been a shitload of crap that he hadn't had the chance to see what Kobayakawa created. Snatching his phone and the envelope, he throws himself onto his bed with a sigh. Ripping the envelope open, Yōichi takes out a thick, semi-transparent plastic sheet, finding intricate puzzles drawn on both sides. Well now, this is interesting. He sets off on solving the first one, eyes scanning the maze-like patterns.

You:

Still got grounded for a whole fucking month for that. A month.

Tou-san:

Of course. The fact that you tried to negotiate a reduced sentence with quantum physics was commendable. Though, futile.

You:

It was a damn good paper.

Tou-san:

Undoubtedly so, Hellion.

The smirk on his face gradually turns into a pensive frown, finger tapping a rhythm on the side of the phone. He hasn't been called that in years. Unsurprising, since his parents are the only ones to call him by that nickname. It tends to take others by surprise (if they're around long enough to find out) that the Hiruma family, for all of their bluffs, subterfuges and misdirections have an unspoken (and fucking unbreakable) code to be direct and honest with one another, even when they're hiding something. And even though Yōichi hasn't seen his father for four years now, he has no intentions on changing that part of who he is and he knows that Yūya is much the same.

You:

Where are you?

Tou-san:

Home.

You:

I can't find you.

It's not for the lack of trying either. Ever since that day by the river, he's been trying to find Yūya everywhere. Hell, he even sent Cerberus to his home a few times just to be sure and still nothing. Not that he's surprised; Hiruma Yūya has always been known for being elusive. But the fact that he's being elusive towards his own son sets off a flurry of alarm bells in his head.

Tou-san:

That's because I don't wish to be found at the moment.

You:

Why?

Tou-san:

That's a surprise.

You:

It'll only be a matter of time for me to find the shit you've been hiding.

Tou-san:

Ah. I suspected you've been trailing me. You may access my files if you wish but the codes are your own. The one that self-upgrades itself. I merely fashioned it to my liking.

You:

I know. Which means it's as insidious as fuck. What's with all the clandestine crap anyway?

Tou-san:

Because I don't wish to disappoint you more than I already had, Yōichi.

Finishing the first puzzle, he sets it aside for a moment to reread Yūya's message, his finger hovering over the screen as he hesitates on asking the question he wants to ask most but is unused to. Regardless, this is his old man; fallout or no, that will never change. And because of that, Yōichi knows he can ask his father anything without judgement.

You:

Alright?

Tou-san:

I am now, yes.

You:

Before?

Tou-san:

No. I was not.

You:

I'm not gonna like what I'm gonna find, am I?

Tou-san:

It was no cause for worry, merely needed a break and some rest, that's all.

And there it is again, that slow sensation of his blood turning into ice. It should be a relief to know that there's nothing wrong but if Yōichi knows his father (which he damn well does) then Yūya is downplaying whatever it is that's in his files; not because he's trying to hide something but it's because he genuinely believes it isn't a big deal. Sighing, he calms his mind and takes the puzzle sheet again to solve the other side of it.

You:

Key code.

Tou-san:

I said you may access my files. That doesn't mean that I will hand over the key. As you always like to say, where's the fun in that?

See? They are all complete 100% bastards towards family. Utterly. Yōichi swears he can see his father's smirk, the one that shows polite amusement but is in actuality sarcasm at it's best. Though they're different in many ways, their love for causing mayhem is irrefutably the same. While the chill in his fingers persists, he'll take things as they are for now; that Hiruma Yūya has returned to cause his own brand of madness.

You:

You utter bastard of a fucking troll. In other words, there won't be any resistance or fighting back anymore since all I have to do is untangle my own coding. You chose that specific program just to piss me off didn't you?

Tou-san:

Obviously. And really, Hellion? That's the pot calling the kettle black isn't it?

You:

Fuck off.

Tou-san:

Likewise. It's getting late, Yōichi. Best get some rest.

You:

Yeah, yeah. Take your own damn advice, Shinigami.

Setting the alarm on his phone, he finishes the puzzle. Putting it aside, he reaches inside the envelope for the last one…only to come up empty. Frowning, he turns it over, shaking it for good measure.

"The hell?" Yōichi mutters. He recalls Kobayakawa mentioning that there are three puzzles; so where the hell is the third? Checking the envelope over, he sees Kobayakawa's handwriting on the flap. "Once you have finished both sides of the sheet, please hold it up to a light source in a darkened room," he reads aloud, curiosity piqued. Turning off the lights and casting the bedroom in darkness, he does as Kobayakawa instructed; raising his phone behind the sheet and watches as the shadows from the finished two puzzles create a third one on the wall.

Interesting.

Checking it over, Yōichi is startled to realise that the solutions on both puzzles are actually messages written in romaji; finding 'SORRY' on one side and 'THANK YOU' on the other. He can understand the apology since Kobayakawa gave him this after tackling him into the river but what the hell is his partner thanking him for?

Well, one way to find out.

Keeping the phone and sheet stationary, he takes a marker and draws up the solution on the wall, twisting and graphing and connecting until he reaches the center of the maze before taking a step back for a proper look. He freezes with a sharp inhale as understanding washes over him.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

"Fuck-shit-sonuvabitch," Yōichi breathes after a long moment, reaching a hand out to trace the words. Three puzzles and three messages, all in one innocuous sheet. Ruffling his hair, Yōichi laughs long and loud, feeling admittedly happy because how the fucking hell did Kobayakawa do this? She took something so simple as a cheap sheet of plastic that you can find anywhere at a store and turn it into something so fucking brilliant. No doubt the girl poured a bit of herself in each puzzle by sending him the messages; building it all up just to wish him a fucking happy birthday. Seriously, what the fucking hell?

"Kobayakawa," he huffs, folding his arms with a shake of his head. "Even when you don't understand and were scared shitless, you still gave me pieces of you." Yōichi smiles, exasperated and feeling just a bit too fond. "Idiot."

---

Trying to plan an almost last minute gathering is truly an ordeal and a challenge. One that Daikichi is more than willing to rise up.

Regardless, while he finds that money is not that much of an issue as the items are easily procured, it is the time and more importantly energy that proves to be a slight trouble. Daikichi rather not his master stressed out in planning a gathering again. They had, after all, narrowly avoided having the Captain bring out the tank.

As it is a gathering, Daikichi finds it a good chance to have the sankyōdai participate; especially since they were regrettably absent at the graduation party and its subsequent trip. Hence forth, with that in mind, he embarks on finding his possible comrades, finding them at their usual hanging spot.

Unlike previous times, he is greeted with a surprising lack of hostility by the three teens.

"Yozakura?" Kuroki questions after he informs them of his visit.

He nods. "Fugo!"

Togano taps his chin in thought. "And you want us to help?"

"Fugo!"

"Not only that but you're actually inviting us?" Jūmonji inquires with a raised brow. "You seriously want us there?"

Daikichi frowns. "Of course, fugo!"

The sankyōdai exchange contemplative looks before Jūmonji gives him a slow nod. "Alright."

He blinks. "E-eh?"

"Didn't expect that, huh?" Kuroki grins as he shrugs. "We've been hangin' at the base all through spring break. It's actually not so bad, this whole football thing."

"That and you and you're friends are actually kinda cool. I mean, anyone who likes JUMP can't be all bad," Togano says frankly, turning a page of his manga.

Daikichi looks questioningly at Jūmonji who shoves his hands into his pockets, kicking away from the wall that he was leaning against. "Let's put it this way; you're offering us free food. Like hell we're gonna turn that down."

There is an inconsistency to that answer because though it is free food, he is still asking for their assistance in the preparations. Daikichi contemplates on pointing that out however he refrains from doing so when Jūmonji throws a glare at him.

Ah, an excuse. Perhaps to keep up appearances. Very well, he will respect that but secretly, Daikichi believes that such excuses will not last long once the three teens interact properly with his team for even though they can be a bit crazy, they are amazing and remarkable people, resisting them is a most futile effort.

Daikichi nods.

The rest of the day is spent on gathering all the assortments one would need in cherry blossom viewing, from picnic sheets to disposable utensils. Kurita had of course, assured him that he will once again be in charge of the food and beverages while Monta had volunteer to assist the center if there comes a need for it.

Any lingering hostility or reluctance held between himself and the sankyōdai easily subsides the longer they spend around each other and before either of them know it, they cannot resist bickering and joking amongst themselves in between all the coordinating.

The location is a bit worrying as hanami has always required a great deal of resilience in finding an appropriate viewing spot. It is in the simplest of terms, a war zone that is within a league of its own.

"I can do it if you'd like?" Sena offers when they all meet up at the base to discuss their dilemma.

"Y-yes?"

"Sure!"

"Lost, fugo?"

"...Most likely."

Daikichi agrees somewhat reluctantly, not because he does not think his best friend is incapable. No, far from it. It is because Daikichi worries since Sena has a habit of getting lost at times but even so, he knows that the result will be favourable because Sena will always return without fail and bring back something extraordinary along with her.

As evident to the clearing he is now standing in.

"Sena-chan, this is..." Kurita looks around in wonder, understandably speechless. It is in the late afternoon when he and his master follows the running back to the chosen spot that his friend had searched and stumbled upon. Goodness, it fits to what he and Kurita were hoping for and more.

"Is it...alright?" Sena fidgets, appearing apprehensive. Bless her, even now, his best friend's confidence is scarce. No matter, it will be nourish with the care that it deserves.

Daikichi gives the brunette a two thumbs up and a hug for good measure as his answer.

Sena hugs him back with a relieved laugh.

Going beyond the chance to celebrate their successful boot camp and the new school year, Kurita expressed to him that he wishes for all of his teammates to have a solid relationship with one another outside of football. Daikichi agrees, hoping that it will give them all an opportunity to get to know one another.

Now it is all about finalizations. A job for the line as everything is finally falling into place and Daikichi is happy to note that it is actually coming together quite nicely.

"Good, fugo!" Daikichi ticks the last box on the checklist scribbled out on his clipboard.

"Haaaah..." the sankyōdai cheers weakly, sounding more exhausted than anything else by their station on the grass. That will need to be rectify once they agree to be permanent fixtures to the team. The three teens will not last in a complete match if a hanami preparation tires them out.

Kurita laughs, reaching over to pat the delinquents' back, almost causing them to have a coughing fit from the force of it. "Good job everyone! I can't wait for it!" Suddenly, his master frowns. "You will be joining us, right?"

The sankyōdai exchange looks before Jūmonji sighs. "You're gonna hounds if we don't anyway so why the hell not?"

"That, and we rather not give that Hiruma-bastard a reason to blackmail us," Kuroki grumbles.

Daikichi sweatdrops with a sigh. Goodness, it appears the Captain had made clear of his influence already.

"Don't forget the free food," Togano mumbles as he lies down on the grass. Out of the three, Togano is the most honest and laid back. "Though, I better remember to bring a flashlight to read my manga."

"L-lanterns," Daikichi reminds the dirty blond.

"Oh yeah."

"Thank you so much everyone." Kurita pulls them all into a big hug. "You made all of this so much easier. It really means a lot that you three agreed to help us."

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't think this means we're in the team or anything," Jūmonji rubs his forehead with a sigh.

"I know," Kurita says with a gentle smile. "But you're always welcome to join us. Also, you do understand what Komusubi-kun and I were trying to tell you in that practice match, right?"

Again the three exchange looks before they reluctantly nod their heads and a knot of worry unwinds itself. That is a relief.

Perhaps the yozakura will be a good chance to show the sankyōdai that even outside of football they can be themselves around the team without judgement.

Daikichi nods to himself, determined. He simply cannot wait to grow stronger with this team; both as an athlete and as a person.

Truly, he is most blessed indeed.

---

"Are you ready to go?"

Smoothing her emerald green cardigan, Sena notices her mother standing in the doorway, canvas bag in hand and smiling in approval. "You look lovely, Sena. Especially with that new haircut."

Sena raises a hand to play with her ponytail, only to remember at the last minute that she doesn't have one anymore. Instead, she nervously pinches her bangs. "Do you really think so?"

Glancing at her mirror, Sena sees her reflection staring right back at her, still feeling a bit disoriented at the different image the surface presents to her. Sporting a shorter hairstyle, one that now reaches above her shoulders, Sena smiles slightly at the much lighter feel of her hair; it's been years since she kept it short. Sena finds that she prefers it this way. Now framing her face, her feathered hair is now completely layered and textured intricately; wispy and wild. The hairstylist did a really good job yesterday after she came back from Ōsaka, Sena thinks. Pinching a strand, she shyly admires the tresses and sees the henna applied last night highlighting the strands, giving it an ombre effect. Sena has always wanted to try that ever since she saw her grandmother doing the same two summers ago. Sena is a bit surprised that she didn't make too much of a mess by doing it herself though.

"Yup! You look more comfortable than you did before."

"I feel it too." Sena smiles sheepishly at her mother. "Thought it was good time for a change."

Downstairs, her father and Mamori are waiting, holding open the door for them to go through.

Mamori visibly starts. "Sena? What happened to your hair?"

Sena grins as she shrugs, taking a picnic basket from her childhood friend. "It's spring; time for new beginnings."

The spring air outside is cool and refreshing, heavy with the smell of cherry blossoms. Deimon Park seems like a beacon in the distance that grows broader as they approach, more pink than green, with petals flying everywhere. Blue mats have been thrown haphazardly over the grass while over them people negotiate for space. Children and adults weave in and around the tight network of mats and and trees, playing frisbee, badminton, or just running for the fun of it. Thankfully, there are not a lot of people yet. Although, knowing her mother, no doubt Mihae already has a peaceful spot in mind for them so Sena isn't all too worried about the crowds.

Soon, they meet up with Mamori's parents before finding their spot and spread their blankets right beside another family. The toddlers from the family rolls on the mats smiling and giggling and flocking over to Mamori like bees to honey. Mamori has always been great with kids. Smiling, she sits down on the blanket and inspects the basket and pulling out the bentō boxes that were prepared.

The afternoon moves along merrily, as they do at festivals. Sena quietly sips her tea and observes the people around them, catching glimpses of drinking old men, singing performers, and children chasing each other around the trees. She plays a brief match of badminton with Mamori before excusing herself not ten minutes later to sit beside her father to admire the cherry blossoms around them. Sena has been running light speed for quite some time now, it's good to stop and rest for once.

For the rest of the day Sena admires the scenery by lying on the mat to stare up at the canopy of cherry blossoms shadowed by dark branches and bright against the sky above her whilst talking with her parents, telling them in hush tones about her day before in Teikoku as Pit sits languidly on her chest. Occasionally, she tries to pick up the different smells in the park, making a game of identifying the multitudes of smells; from the rich aroma of foods to the countless spring flora. Although, Sena's disappointed at the lack of that familiar scent; the one that is spicy and metallic—

Hold on.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Sena raises an arm to rest it on her forehead, feeling her cheeks heating up. Sena is shocked to realise that she had accidentally sought out Hiruma's scent; expecting the quarterback to be nearby. That's embarrassing and frankly, confusing as Sena thinks with a frown. Maybe it's because she's been spending so much time with Hiruma, to the point of even sharing a room with the blond for a few days not too long ago. It still makes her stomach flutter when she remembers all the different sides of the blackmailer that she was somehow allowed to see; from how Hiruma looks after a shower to when Hiruma who'd just woken up and coffee depraved. Or even better, when Hiruma was at his most sincere to date, telling Sena about being partners; fiery green eyes bright with unparalleled intelligence, cherry blossom petals scattered in wild blond hair with natural black roots as his earrings glint in the setting sun. Smiling dopily, she raises her other arm to catch the falling petals above her, feeling a little too endeared to one of the most dangerous individuals she's ever met and not caring one bit about it.

"Sena?" Raising her head slightly, she sees Mamori looking curiously at her while holding a badminton racquet. "Are you sure you don't want to play some more? You should try to be more active since you're not athletic."

Ah, if only Mamori knew. Sena shakes her head with a faint smile. "No thank you, Mamori-neechan."

Mamori sighs, placing her hands to her hips. "Now see here, Sena—"

"Play!"

Surprised, she looks to see one of the toddlers tugging at Mamori's leg, pointing at a discarded shuttlecock. "Play!"

"Ah, wait. Let me just—"

Sena watches in amusement as the small army of children drag her friend away, feeling a bit relieved at the unexpected save.

"You'll have to tell her one day, Sena," her father says with a chuckle.

"I know. When I've become strong enough for her not to worry about me, I will." Sena smiles sadly at her parents, recalling her lonely years in elementary. "I just don't want history to repeat itself, that's all."

Her mother reaches out to lovingly card her fingers through Sena's bangs. "We understand. Do what you think is best for yourself, Sena."

Sena leans into her mother's touch with a content sigh, echoed by a purr on her chest as Pit, feeling neglected, bumps her head under Sena's chin. Giggling, she scratches the feline's ears, turning her attention back to the canopy above.

It's strange, Sena reflects, but she hasn't felt so content in stillness for a long time. It's rare for her nowadays to truly pause like this and simply bask in the moment. She doesn't regret how crazy her life is but it's nice to take a break too; kinda like a rest day now that Sena thinks about it. Still, there's also no denying the fact that she is looking forward to yozakura later in the evening even if it'll end up being rambunctious. Because for all of their craziness, there's no other team she'd rather be in, and the thought brings an uncontrollable smile to her face as she closes her eyes.

Better save up some energy.

By the time the sun sets, Sena helps her parents in cleaning and packing up then places everything back into where it belongs. Since Mamori and her parents left not too long ago, Sena allows herself to talk freely about the Bats with her parents, mostly of shenanigans she and her friends got themselves into. Some are even about Hiruma and the fact that they're partners now; equals. The fact still makes her giddy with happiness.

"Hmmm," Mihae smiles as she folds their tarp, for some reason trading secretive glances with Shūma. "Don't get into any bad trouble, okay? Both of you."

Sena chuckles. "Is there such a thing as good trouble, Kaa-san?"

"With Hiruma-kun? Let's hope so," Shūma quips up beside Mihae with a smile. "When are you meeting up with your friends? Will you make it in time?"

Checking her wristwatch, Sena breathes a sigh of relief. "I still have an hour left; don't worry. Let me just help get everything back home then I'll be off."

After dropping off their things and saying her goodbyes to her parents, Sena sets off into a light jog towards the her destination with an excited grin. The sun has set and now it's time for the Devil Bats to come out and play.

---

Yōichi hums 'Sakura Sakura' under his breath.

People part like the dead sea the moment he prowls down the walkpath leading to the hill that will bring him to the assigned location for the Devil Bats' first ever yozakura viewing spot. He passes a few more people before the path leads up to a secluded slope that opens on a bright red wooden bridge over a cherry blossom covered stream, the full moon casting an ethereal glow to the bridge...and the unknown girl standing on it.

Yōichi stops a few feet away from the girl, puzzled at the sense of familiarity on a stranger.

As if sensing his presence, the stranger turns towards him, revealing unearthly red-brown eyes set into that familiar empathic stare.

Yōichi blinks. "Kobayakawa?"

The not stranger smiles bashfully at him. "Good evening, Hiruma-san."

The voice is definitely Kobayakawa's; warm and silvery in it's register that falls into that recognisable mix of D4 and C4.

Yōichi nods slightly. "Evening. Shouldn't you be with the others right now?" He feels more at ease talking casually like this with Kobayakawa now since that day in the classroom. Less bluffs and misdirections.

Kobayakawa sheepishly points to the moon. "I kinda got distracted by the view."

Yōichi hums and tilts his head to the side, eyes quickly taking in the girl before him as he scrutinises the physical changes that the running back has taken. Kobayakawa looks different compared to yesterday in Ōsaka and it's not only because it's the first time he's seen the brunette in something other than her school uniform and sports wear. The closest would be the time when Kobayakawa was wearing her pyjamas but even that was something that closely resembled a tracksuit than actual nightwear. This...is vastly different because it's not just the clothes; it's her very presence. The one he glimpsed back at the base early of spring break.

Kobayakawa looks comfortable and relaxed. Confident. She's dressed suitably for the weather; a knee length green cardigan over a gray layered blouse, customary belt circling her waist and black denim jeans hugging those graceful legs of hers, tapered off with a pair of slip on black sneakers. As he walks closer to the girl, Yōichi notices henna stained fingers curling slightly on the edge of the sleeves before his gaze gravitates up to the reason why he didn't immediately recognise the running back.

The once waist long locks are cut above her shoulders; layered brown hair frames the running back's face in a windswept manner with streaks of henna highlighting the strands. Unlike most girls her age, there's a distinctively lack of makeup on her.

Like this, with the cool spring wind dancing around her, Kobayakawa looks ridiculously stregherian, ridiculously endearing, and most of all ridiculously—

"Fucking gorgeous."

Kobayakawa blinks confusedly at him, cupping a hand to her ear as the winds die down. "Did you say something Hiruma-san?"

It takes Yōichi a moment too long to realise that he said those words out loud.

Clearing his throat, Yōichi nods sharply behind the brunette as his mind whirls. "I said, let's go."

"...You're bluffing." Kobayakawa ducks her head to catch his gaze before her eyes flicker up. "Are you cold? You're ears are a bit red."

Yōichi strides forward to cross the bridge. "C'mon."

Kobayakawa walks beside him, arms brushing and staring contemplatively at him but right now, Yōichi refuses to give any more than he already has.

Because what the fucking hell?

His brain is doing something, like rebooting itself into safe mode, limited access and no complicated settings. Shit. Yōichi is aware of physical attraction, has gone through it a few times growing up (he's not ignorant of attractive girls, fuck you very much; he just prefers ignoring them because they're rarely in the same wavelength as him) but it's the first time he actually blurted out his fucking thoughts into the open like that. So much so that his brain didn't even had a chance to filter or process it until it's already out there. And what's more, there's no damn excuse of just being woken up this time. The few times he'd shown any interest to anyone, it has always stayed inside within the confines of his mind. Even Anezaki. But Kobayakawa—

Fingers whisper across his knuckles.

Snapping his gaze back to Kobayakawa, Yōichi sees the girl blinking up at him, a blush chasing across her cheeks. "I might not have heard what you said but somehow, I feel like I should thank you all the same."

Yōichi arches a brow. "Oh? It could've been an insult for all you know, fucking chibi."

"Was it?"

He levels a glare at Kobayakawa, who stares patiently back at him, a gentle smile on her lips. Abruptly, he remembers that this is Kobayakawa; his partner. Things don't need to be stupid between them nor does he need to keep things at bay.

"No," he murmurs, shoving his hands to his pockets.

"...Will you repeat whatever it was that you said?" Kobayakawa enquires, big eyes staring up at him.

"One day," he allows, smirking down at the exasperated looking Kobayakawa. Yōichi observes the shadows and moonlight playing across his partner's face and recalls the puzzles and sets his gaze to the walkpath. "The three puzzles you gave me."

Kobayakawa looks up at him with tredeption, something the girl tends to do whenever he brings up a puzzle that Kobayakawa created, thinking for some reason that he might not have enjoyed it. Fucking bullshit, that. "Yes?"

"They were very interesting." Yōichi delivers a kick to the back of Kobayakawa's knees, causing the girl to squeak and stumble. "Especially the last one. Fucking clever."

Kobayakawa gapes after she regains her balance. "...You just gave me a verbal compliment."

Yōichi snickers. "Got a problem with that?"

"No," Kobayakawa denies with a shake of her head before her features set into something determined. "I know it's late but I hope you don't mind me saying this—" Kobayakawa takes a breath then rushes forward to stand in front of him, eyes empathic and smile tender and shit, Yōichi has to quickly bite his tongue as another gust of wind rushes through the trees lining the path and petals drift silently down in a floating shower, framing alluringly around his partner. Once is enough, goddammit.

"Happy belated birthday, Hiruma-san. Thank you for being born."

Yōichi pauses for a beat as thoughts of (only her) whispers in his mind again before he safely tucks them away and chuckles, giving Kobayakawa a half smile. "Hn."

The running back beams, a pleased flush on her cheeks. They continue their trek up until they reach their destination; a vast expense of grass and cherry blossom trees surrounding them all over. It's empty save for the group that's currently sitting on the giant blue tarp beneath a large shidarezakura tree, and for once Yōichi has to take a moment to simply look around.

"It looks even better at night," Kobayakawa murmurs beside him.

"You've been here?"

Kobayakawa nods, eyes bright in awe and appreciation. "I was responsible for finding the location actually. The planning is all Kurita-san and Komu though."

"Fatty has always been good at this kind of shit." Yōichi observes his surroundings; the hanging lanterns that glows ominously, the scent of good food, the soft wailing winds blowing through the trees, all finished off by that fact that they're overlooking a nearby cemetery. It's one hell of a haunting setting they're in. Fitting for the Devil Bats.

Keh, not bad. It certainly has quite a bit of an underworld feel to it.

"Oi~! Over here!"

Yōichi blinks to see Kurita waving at the pair of them with a wide and happy grin. Kobayakawa happily waves back before smiling impishly at him. "Shall we?"

Yōichi cackles. "Why the hell not."

If it was anyone else planning the outing, Yōichi would've never come but since it's his brother, he at least wants to check it out and see if it'll be interesting. Surprisingly, Yōichi doesn't regret it; finds that he's actually enjoying himself even. It's been years since he celebrated hanami, feeling a pang of regret over the lost years. His family never celebrates anything like other people do as they always preferred twisting traditions to suit their preferences. His family has always been interesting because of that; always on the eccentric side.

The tarp is coverred with an assortment of traditional food; a feast that Kurita had no doubt led to painstakingly prepare. His gaze flits over everyone there. Kobayakawa is by his side, as always, and the girl giggles softly as she smiles fondly at their teammates. It's the first time where they're all gathered without the soldiers so it takes a few minutes for some of the brats to lose their hesitation to interact, but the Devil Bats wouldn't be the Devil Bats if they stayed down for long and soon, chatter and squabbles and laughter are erupting around area.

Kurita sits right at the center, nearby most of the foods while Komusubi perches himself on Kurita's back like a damn koala. Musashi and Yukimitsu Hotaru sits side by side, talking in quiet, intimate tones in a way only damn couples can do. Eugh. The sankyōdai divides their attention from squabbling with Komusubi to hording as much food as they can. Monta unsurprisingly, is munching on bananas (seriously?) while talking about some crap or another with Kobayakawa.

Yōichi hears the tarp shift before Cerberus plops down onto his lap. The mutt wags his tail as he watches the team with Yōichi before Cerberus looks up to give him a canine grin, tongue lolling to the side. Lips quirking into a half smile, Yōichi reaches out to scratch Cerberus behind the ears.

Looking around, Yōichi can't stamp down the sudden desire to introduce these brats to his father one day. It's unexpected but unsurprising he supposes; if only to himself, he can admit that he does miss his father. Swiping up a makizushi, Yōichi leans back to stare at the cherry blossom above him, the fire glow from the lanterns that are hanging by the branches cast haunting shadows around them. Pulling out his phone, Yōichi snaps a picture of the lush cherry blossom trees, making sure the cemetery and full moon are clear within the backdrop. He then sends it to his father, forgoing any ciphers to simply write a hanami greeting typically exchanged in his family.

May the cadavers underneath bring new life in death.

Yōichi isn't surprised when he receives back the same greeting not a minute later, along with a picture of cherry blossom petals storming in front of what suspiciously looks like the Sendagaya tunnel. It appears that his father is taking the haunted route back home from the Association. Interesting.

Wait…Association?

"He's playing again?" Yōichi wonders under his breath, feeling excited and though he won't admit it, relieved at the possibility that his father has taken up shōgi again. He'll have to confirm that later.

Cerberus nudges him, breaking Yōichi out of his thoughts as the mutt tries to drag him into the fold with the brats. Keh, maybe once in a while. Pocketing his phone back into his jacket, he allows himself to play an assortments of games, wiping the floor with the brats as he wins in the card games. Although, Kobayakawa catches them all by surprise when she shows her proficiency as they play dice games. At first, he thinks it might be luck until he sees the way Kobayakawa flings them. Ah, that's right, the girl has high spatial intelligence. Good, at least it's not entirely based on pure luck; that'd be boring. When he checks the overall game scores, it shows that Kobayakawa is slowly but surely keeping up with him. Yōichi cuts a glance at the running back, who grins cheekily at him.

"Told you a hundred years is but a small number. I'll get there soon enough, Hiruma-san."

Yōichi chuckles as he twirls a gun in his hand. "See that you do, fucking chibi."

Later, they indulge in a game of flag football, with Cerberus acting as referee and unsurprisingly, things escalate from there; one that of a simple competition to a goddamn battle of epic proportions involving every single one of them, even the ever severe Hotaru. They are the Devil Bats after all; causing mayhem is what they're meant to do.

After they finished with their games and meals, they clean up the area; Yōichi even joins the brats in this one too because for all of his chaotic nature, Yōichi really does hate leaving garbage around. Afterwards, they go down to the night stalls, enjoying snacks or desserts to finish off the night. Yōichi is pleased to note that he broke half a dozen deals with the vendors. And a few blackmails for the more stubborn ones too. Overall, despite his doubts, Yōichi thinks yozakura might be a good tradition for the Devil Bats to have after all.

When next morning comes along, he grins wide as he sees six newly minted high school first years standing shoulder to shoulder by the school's front gates; Deimon's uniform fresh and crisp like the spring air covering their forms. Watching as Kurita bounds towards the brats, Yōichi follows at a more sedate, prowling pace; content to focus his attention entirely towards a certain petite brunette, who unflinchingly meets his gaze with a humble yet confident smile stretching across her face.

Let the games begin.